Читать книгу Tom Clark and His Wife - Paschal Beverly Randolph - Страница 6

"What a change! During my slumber it seemed that I had been transported to the summit of a very lofty mountain, yet still within the Temple. By my side stood an aged and saintly man, of regal and majestic presence. He was clad in an oriental garb of the long-gone ages, and his flowing robes were bound to his waist by a golden band, wrought into the similitude of a shining serpent—the sacred emblem of eternal wisdom. Around his broad and lofty brow was a coronet of silver, dusted with spiculæ of finest diamond. On the sides of the centre were two scarabei, the symbol of immortality; and between them was a pyramid, on which was inscribed a mystical character which told, at the same time, that his name was Ramus the Great.[1]

"This royal personage spake kindly to me, and his soft tones fell upon the hearing of my soul like the words of pardon to the sense of sinners at the Judgment Seat. 'Look, my son,' said he, at the same time pointing toward a vast procession of the newly-risen dead—a spectral army on the sides of the mountain, slowly, steadily, mournfully wending their way toward the part of the temple I had quitted previous to the commencement of this dream within a dream. Said the man at my side: 'Yonder host of pilgrims are men and women who are seeking, as thou hast sought, to unbar the Gates of Glory, that they may pass through them into the delightful Garden of the Beatitudes. It is one thing to be endowed with Intellectual Strength, Knowledge and Immortality; it is another to be Wise and Happy. The first is a boon granted to all the children of earth alike; the last can only be attained by integral development—by self-endeavor, by innate goodness and God-ness continually manifested—and this in material and aromal worlds alike. Man is man and woman is woman, wherever they may be! The true way to the garden lies not through Manifestation Corridor, but through the Hall of Silence! and each Aspirant must open the door for himself alone. Failing to enter, as thou hast failed, each must turn back, and, like thee, come hither to Mount Retrospect, and entering into the labyrinths within its sides, must search for the triple key, which alone can unbar the Gate, and admit to the Beautiful Garden! Remember! Despair not! Try!' and in an instant the Phantom-man turned from me, and with outstretched arms, and benignance beaming from every feature, hied him toward the ascending army.

"Again I stood alone, not now in despondency and gloom, but in all the serene strength of noble, conscious Manhood—not the actual, but the certain and glorious possibility thereof. My soul had grown. It was aware of all its past short-comings, failures, and its hatreds toward two men who had done me deadly wrong. This feeling still survived—stronger than ever, now that I was across the Bridge of Hours, and had become a citizen of the inner land—a wanderer through Eternity. That hate was as immortal as my deathless soul. Will it ever be? And yet I had ever meant well. All was calm in my spirit, save this single awful thing. In this spirit, with this consciousness—not of deep malignance, but of outraged Justice—I began to look for the mysterious key; and as I looked, an instinct told me that the key must consist of certain grand human virtues, and corresponding good deeds, held and done before I left the shores of time and embarked upon the strange and mystic sea whereon my soul's fortunes were now cast.

"And so I searched, and at last seemed to have found what I sought; and thereupon I wished myself once more before the brazen Gate. Instantly, as if by magic, the wish was realized, and I stood before at, on the same spot formerly occupied. The first inscription, the symbols and circle had disappeared, and in their stead was another circle, containing these lines: 'Speak, for thou shalt be heard! Tell what thou hast done to elevate thy fellow men, and to round out the angles of thine own soul. Whom hast thou uplifted, loved, hated? Speak, and when the words containing the key are spoken, the door will yield, and thou mayest pass the Threshold.'

"The writing slowly faded, and left naught but a surface, but that surface as of molten gold. I spoke aloud my claim to entrance, and, to my astonishment, my voice rang out shrill and clear, through the vaults and arches of the mighty dome towering far above my head. 'I have suffered from infancy—been opposed from the cradle to maturity—been hated, robbed, slandered on all sides, yet pushed forward in defiance of all, until I reached all that I desired—all that earth could give me. Self-educated, I achieved triumphs where others failed; have reaped laurels and grasped the keys of fame, and laughed at my folly afterwards, because what is fame? A canker, gnawing out one's life when living, disturbing his repose when dead—not worth a straw! But, in all this, despite the ending, I have set an example, by following which man might elevate himself, society be improved, and its constituents realize the bliss of moving in loftier spheres of usefulness!' While giving voice to these truths, I firmly expected to see the gate fly open at their conclusion. But what was my horror and dismay to see that it moved not at all, while the echoes of my speech gave back in frightfully resonant waves of sound the last word, 'Usefulness!'

"Not being able to think of any nobler achievements, I cast my eyes groundward, and, on again raising them, I beheld, across the clear space on the door, the single word, 'Try!'

"Taking heart again, I said, 'Alone I sought the secret of restoring health to the sick, and gave it freely to the world, without money, without price. I have made grand efforts to banish sloth, sin, ignorance; have ever upheld the honor of the Cross, and the sweet religion it symbolizes. Striving ever to upraise the veil that hides man from himself, in the effort I have been misapprehended, my motives impugned, and my reward has been poverty, slander, disgrace. In the strife, I have been heedless to every call save that of human duty, and, in obeying the behests of a nobler destiny, have been regardless of all worldly distinction; have ignored wealth, fame, honorable place in the world's esteem, and even been deaf to the calls of love!'

"I ceased, and again the vault threw back my last word, and all the arches echoed 'Love!'

"The gate moved not, but once more appeared upon the golden lozenge on the door the word 'Try!' in greater brightness than before, while it seemed to the hearing sense of my spirit that a thousand velvet whispers—low, so low, gently cadenced back 'Love!'

"'I have rebuked the immoral, humbled the lofty and overbearing, exposed deception, comforted the mourner, redeemed the harlot, reformed the thief, fed the orphan and upheld the rights and dignity of Labor!'

"Still the door moved not, but again the echoes gave back the last word, 'Labor!'

"'I have preached immortality to thousands, and prevailed on them to believe it; have written of, and everywhere proclaimed its mighty truths. I have beaten the sceptic, confirmed the wavering, reassured the doubting, and through long and bitter years, in both hemispheres of the globe, have declared that if a man die, he shall live again; thus endeavoring to overthrow error, establish truth, banish superstition, and on their ruins lay the deep and broad foundations of a better faith!'

"As if a myriad voices chimed out my last syllable, there rang through the spacious halls and corridors of the Temple, the sublime word, 'Faith!' and instantly the bolts appeared to move within their iron wards. Continuing, I said: 'I have ever endeavored, save in one single instance, to foster, and in all cases have a spirit of forgiveness.'

"This time there was no mistake. The thousand bolts flew back, the ponderous brazen gate moved forward and back, like a vast curtain, as if swayed by a gentle wind; while a million silvery voices sang gloriously, 'In all cases have a spirit of forgiveness!'

"Joyously I tried again, intuition plainly telling me that only one thing more was necessary to end my lonely pilgrimage, and exalt me to the blessed companionship of the dear ones whom I so longed to join in their glory-walks adown the celestial glades and vistas of God's Garden of the Beatitudes. I spoke again:

"'I have fallen from man's esteem in pursuance of what appeared to be my duty. A new faith sprung up in the land, and unwise zealots brought shame and bitter reproach against and upon it. Lured by false reasoning, I yielded to the fascinations of a specious sophistry, and for awhile my soul languished under the iron bondage of a powerful and glittering falsehood. At length, seeing my errors, I strove to correct them, and to sift the chaff from the true and solid grain; but the people refused to believe me honest, and did not, would not understand me; but they insisted that in denouncing Error, I ignored the living truths of God's great economy; yet still I labored on, trying to correct my faults, and to cultivate the queen of human virtues, Charity!' Scarcely had this last word escaped my lips, than the massive portals flew wide open, disclosing to my enraptured gaze such a sight of supernal and celestial beauty, grandeur, and magnificence, as human language is totally inadequate to describe; for it was such, as it stood there revealed before my ravished soul; and I may not here reveal the wondrous things I saw and heard.... Lara, Lara, my beautiful one, the dear dead maiden of the long agone, stood before me, just within the lines of Paradise. She loved me still—aye, the dear maiden of my youth had not forgotten the lover of her early and her earthly days—

"'When I was a boy, and she was a girl,

In the city by the sea,'

ere the cruel Death had snatched her from my arms, and love, a long, long time ago; for the love of the Indian, as his hatred, survives the grave.... And she said, 'Paschal, my beloved—lone student of the weary world—I await thy entrance here. But thou mayest not enter now, because no hatred can live inside these gates of Bliss. Wear it out, discard it. Thou art yet incomplete, thy work is still unfinished. Thou hast found the keys! Go back to earth, and give them to thy fellow-men. Teach, first thyself, and then thy brethren, that Usefulness, Love, Labor, Forgiveness, Faith and Charity, are the only keys which are potent to cure all ill, and unbar the Gates of Glory.'

"'Lara! Beautiful Lara, I obey thee! Wait for me, love. I am coming soon!' I cried, as she slowly retreated, and the gate closed again. 'Not yet, not yet,' I cried, as with extended arms I implored the beauteous vision to remain—but a single instant longer. But she was gone. I fell to the ground in a swoon. When I awoke again, I found the night had grown two hours older than it was when I sat down in the chair in my little chamber in Bush street, the little chamber which I occupied in the goodly city of the Golden Gate."

Thus spake the Rosicrucian. We were all deeply moved at the recital, and one after the other we retired to our rooms, pondering on the story and its splendid moral. Next day we reached Acapulco, and not till we had left and were far on our way toward Panama, did we have an opportunity of listening to the sermon to the eloquent text I have just recounted.

At length he gave it, as nearly as it can possibly be reproduced, in the following words: